


May 4th

by angelfiregirl80



Series: Prompts [51]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Nightmares, Reichenbach Angst, Reichenbach Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-27 22:01:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10817613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelfiregirl80/pseuds/angelfiregirl80
Summary: Following ACD canon, Sherlock's fall was on May 4th. SOrry for the angst, but this just happened...





	May 4th

**Author's Note:**

> Following ACD canon, Sherlock's fall was on May 4th. SOrry for the angst, but this just happened...

The cry teared the silent darkness that surrounded them and jolted Sherlock awake in an instant, recognising not only the sorrow and the anguish in the voice that was screaming his name.

“SHERLOCK!!!”

The cry teared the silence again and Sherlock was afraid to reach, to speak, to react, knowing full well he was the one to blame for such a sorrowful yelp of his own name.

“He’s my friend. Please” John’s broken voice interrupted the dark silence once more. Sherlock felt the now familiar pang of regret low in his stomach and reached for his best and only friend, putting John’s hand over his wrist, making sure he could feel his pulse.

“Sherlock” John’s broken voice rips the silence once more and Sherlock dares to speak.

“I’m right here” He murmurs, pulling John close, making sure his head rests on his chest and his ear is over his heart, his fingers gripping with the force of life his wrist and feeling his thrumming pulse “I’m right here” He whispers again as his free hand travels back and forth over John’s back, feeling every single shudder, every sharp intake of breath, every sorrowful sigh turn into a mournful sob.

“Sherlock” John laments again, but this time his grasp is firmer, his voice slightly more alert, his lungs expand with all the air he was missing and Sherlock knows he’s waking, coming back to the awaken world.

“I’m right here” Sherlock soothes and feels as the tremors slowly fade, as the sobs turn into sighs again, as John’s heart goes back to normal and his fingers loosen slowly from his wrist.

“Oh, Sherlock” John sobs once more, but this time is not a sorrowful sob, is more a prayer, a benediction, a happy announcement of life, a relieved sigh announcing all is well.

“I’m here, my love” Sherlock kisses John’s forehead “I’m back” he pulls him impossibly closer.

John’s hands roam over his body, his face, his fingers find his pulse once more, his ear hears for his heart, his mouth, desperate, searches his and feels him breath, taking deep breaths, coming to the surface of the nightmare, freeing himself of the ocean of desperations that is the memory of watching him fall.

“May fourth” John mutters and Sherlock just holds him closer.

“I’m sorry” The words are said, full of meaning, but they go unheard, they’ve talked about it, many times, no apologies needed; but no matter how long has been, how many years have passed, John would wake Sherlock with his nightmare of May 4th.


End file.
